


Nosy

by avengersincamphalfbloodstardis



Series: Skysolo Week [3]
Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Embarrassment, M/M, Masturbation, Oblivious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-28
Updated: 2016-01-28
Packaged: 2018-05-16 16:43:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5833000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avengersincamphalfbloodstardis/pseuds/avengersincamphalfbloodstardis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luke just wants things to be normal between him and Han again.<br/>Unfortunately, things do not go so well for him there.<br/>Prompted by <a href="http://jediprompts.tumblr.com/post/137279047905/han-luke-week-25th-29th-january-during-this">JediPrompts</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Nosy

Luke was  _ not  _ avoiding Han, no matter what Leia said.

He was just...giving Han his space.

Ever since Luke kissed him in the kitchen, things had been awkward. Every time they’d bumped into each other, Han started sputtering something about going to find Chewie to help with some repairs and Luke just turned bright red.

They were  _ not  _ being babies, no matter what Leia said. Luke hadn’t told her exactly what had happened, but she was smart enough to know  _ something _ had happened between the two of them.

“You’re being idiots,” she informed Luke. “And Chewie agrees with me.”

“Am not,” Luke pouted.

She put a hand on his shoulder and looked in the eye. Her smile was soft and sympathetic and Luke could feel how much she cared for him in that moment.

“I love you,” she said kindly. “But you are being immensely stupid.”

Luke blinked at her.

She just smiled and patted his cheek, saying, “Go talk to him,” before walking off.

Luke sat there for awhile, still pouting.

He really didn’t want his friendship with han to be ruined, and this weird air between them was killing him. He just wanted his friend back.

He steeled himself and set off for Han’s quarters.

When they had been in the compartment together, Luke had thought maybe Han felt something, not romantic feelings for Han never seemed to have any of those, but something akin to desire, to want.

Han had called him cute, but he did that sort of thing often, pointing out Luke’s short stature, calling him cute, tiny, kid.

Perhaps the heat had simply gotten to his head down there, clouded his vision, twisted Han’s words and actions into something Luke desperately wanted them to be.

Luke hesitated before knocking on Han’s door.

What if he made it worse? What if Han just needed time away from Luke, a little distance? What if Leia was wrong?

At that, Luke shook his head. Leia was hardly ever wrong.

He knocked softly and listened.

It was quiet, no response.

Luke was almost positive Han was in there; was Han ignoring him? Did he know it was Luke and didn’t want to see him?

He knocked once more, just in case, and listened intently.

After a moment, he heard own name.

“Luke,” came Han’s voice, followed by something unintelligible.

Luke paused before moving closer to the door to listen.

“Luke,” came Han’s voice again, sounding distressed.

What could he be doing?

Perhaps Leia was in there, berating Han as she had Luke? Was Han lamenting to her that Luke, a kid, was harboring such a silly crush on him?

Oh, how embarrassing it must be for Han to have a  _ child  _ pant after him , to long for him.

That must be it; while Luke had been gathering his courage, Leia had gone to lecture Han, only to be drawn into his justified pity of Luke and embarrassment.

Luke had to know if he was right. No matter how it would hurt to hear Han’s pitying words, he needed to hear it. Perhaps hearing it would have the effect of splashing cold water on himself, a slap of reality.

Luke eased the door open, just a crack.

He pressed his ear to the door and listened.

“Oh god,  _ Luke _ ,” Han said, his voice tight.

He was almost crying and it twisted Luke’s heart. Han must truly hate Luke’s pining, they must truly pain him.

Luke listened, but all he could hear was heavy breathing. What could Han be doing? Where was Leia’s voice, telling him to snap out of it, as she surely would?

Why would Han be saying Luke’s name if he were alone? Luke had to know.

He pushed the door open and stepped inside.

There, on the bed, was Han.

He had no clothes on, the sheets were wrinkled by his feet.

His muscles were taut, his skin had a slight sheen to it, and Luke was reminded of the compartment when Han’s shirt had been off and he’d been covered in sweat.

His head was pressed back into his pillow, his neck elongated.

And his hand was wrapped around his cock, stroking furiously.

Luke stood there, frozen.

“Luke,” Han groaned.

“Han?” Luke squeaked, his tongue finally loosening enough for him to speak.

Han’s head jerked up.

His pupils, blown wide, swiftly drew in and he cried “Kid!” grabbing a pillow and throwing it over his crotch, covering himself.

Luke turned and ran, ran away from Han, away from what he’d seen, away from what he’d done.

He burst into his own room, continuing to his bathroom to fall against the counter sink.

He panted heavily, gripping the edge tightly. Images of Han flooded his brain; Han laying on his bed, Han shining with sweat in the compartment, Han smirking down at him, Han stroking his cock, and  _ oh. _

Luke looked down and nearly cried; his own cock was pressing against his pants, so hard.

Silently begging Han for forgiveness for something he would hopefully never find out about, Luke shoved his pants down and wrapped a hand around his cock.

He bit his lip and whimpered at the first stroke, whined at the second.

_ Han’s toes curled against the mattress, pushing the crumpled sheets further to the foot of the bed. _

Luke choked back a cry and squeezed his eyes shut.

_ Han’s neck, the cords bulging, curving, sloped. His head pressed back into the pillow, hair falling across the cushion. _

Luke gasped as the callouses on his palm caught against his cock roughly.

_ Han’s hand on his cock, pulling up fast and sliding down slow. _

Luke yanked a drawer open and rummaged inside.

_ Luke’s name growled low in Han’s throat, echoing in Luke’s head louder than thunder and singing softly as rain in his heart. _

He found what he was looking for; a little tube that Leia had given him along with raised eyebrows and the book about a pirate and a prince, though he hadn’t told Han that when he’d asked about his reading.

_ The feel of Han’s lips against his own, rough yet tender beneath the press of his mouth. _

A quick drip of the liquid onto Han’s fingers and he was reaching around himself, pressing his fingers inside. he arched and his mouth fell open in a silent scream.

_ Han’s fingers, Han’s hands, Han’s lips, Han’s mouth, Han’s cock- _

The thrust of Luke’s fingers and the thrust of his fingers grew sloppy and he came with a gasping cry, come spilling over his fist, his fingers pressed into his prostate.

He breathed heavily as he came down from the high.

Luke looked up into the mirror.

His chest was heaving, his cheeks were read, and his pupils were blown wide.

More red rushed into his cheeks as he blushed.

He pulled his fingers out of himself and ran them under the water from the sink.

He looked back up at his reflection once more, feeling shame wash over him.

If only he hadn’t been so  _ nosy _ , so needy to find out what Han had been saying about him.

And now... Now what was he going to do?


End file.
